


Hero's Welcome

by lionsenpai



Category: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: F/F, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 19:49:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5756065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionsenpai/pseuds/lionsenpai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three days after the worst mission of her life, Fang comes home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hero's Welcome

**Author's Note:**

  * For [freestylesmile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/freestylesmile/gifts).



> I owed W some fangrai smut, and here we are.

When Fang gets home, Lightning is nowhere to be seen. No hero’s welcome or warm meal waiting on her, just a darkened home and the faint hum of the air vents. 

Which, Fang thinks, dragging her feet over the threshold and dropping her lance at the corner by the door, isn’t really much of a surprise. Early mornings, long nights, and too many days clocked at the office was Lightning’s MO long before she became a spell-slinging, super-charged l’Cie, and the addition of magic has done anything but slow her down. 

She’ll be along in a couple of hours. Maybe. Fang looks at the clock on the wall, blue digital numbers reading  _ 18:14 _ . Yeah. Still early.

The skid of Kain’s Lance  dropping from where Fang propped it falls on deaf ears, Fang already fumbling with the snaps on her sandals. She can’t remember it being this hard to ditch her shoes, but it is, Etro it  _ is _ , and when she finally works them off, it feels like a bloody miracle. 

As soon as they’re off, she kicks the door closed behind her, stumbles forward into the dark, and gropes around until she finds the couch and sags into it, a jumble of limbs and limp. Fang is tired. Fang has never been more tired in her life, and with all the shit she’s been through, that’s saying something.

Distantly, she recognizes the embroidery digging into her cheek as the tail end of one of the chocobo pillows Snow bought them awhile back. 

“Woulda killed for a chocobo,” Fang murmurs, all her aches and pains throbbing in unison. She’s pretty sure she’s not bleeding anymore. “Or some company…”

She falls asleep like that, dark and dreamless, and doesn’t stir one bit. 

At least not until later, when something touches her shoulder and startles her just enough for her to crane her neck to see just what vicious beast wants to make a meal of her. 

“Hey,” Lightning says, leaning down over her. The  living room’s still dark , but Fang’s gaze drifts towards the kitchen, where just enough  light is filtering through the door to make shapes from darkness. The digital blue of the clock reads  _ 21:47 _ .

“Yeah,” Fang replies, tucking her head back into pillow, her eyes closed. 

“Glad to see you home safe - and early. I didn’t think you’d be back until tomorrow.”

Fang grunts; spending another night out in the field would have been nothing less than torturous. 

“You gonna sleep on the couch?” Lightning’s hand rubs across her shoulder blades, all Fang’s sore muscles protesting at once. 

She lets out a little breath, like the effort of a true sigh would break her, but then Lightning presses her fingers into the tight knot just to the right of her neck. Without opening her eyes, she mumbles, “You can sleep  out here  with me, if you keep doing that.”

Lightning obliges and applies a little more pressure, and Fang melts, putty in her hands. “I’d rather get you into the shower and then in a real bed. I think you deserve it.”

The thought of hot water is heavenly; Fang still has sweat and grime caked in all her crevices, mud crusted along her legs. Or maybe that’s blood. “Sweet talker,” she says, tilting her head so it’s not coming out into the pillow. She cracks an eye open. “What if I didn’t kill your wyverns for you? Do I still deserve it?”

“If you can play games, you can get up,” Lightning says, withdrawing. In the light of the kitchen, Fang thinks she spies a slight curve to those lips. “I’m going to go get your water running.”

“Wait, don’t go,” Fang sounds pitiful, even to her own ears, but in the absence of Lightning’s touch, she’s left with only her sore body. “ _ Light. _ ”

Hopeless, she closes her eyes and presses her face back into the pillow. Faintly, the sound of the shower sputtering to life reaches Fang, but she’s no more mobile than she was before, her feet dangling over the arm of the sofa. When Lightning returns, Fang only knows because she hears her footsteps and the soft sigh which follows. 

“Come on, Fang,” she says, resting by Fang’s head and running her fingers through wild curls. 

Fang leans up into her touch. “Don’t think I can make it. You’re gonna have to - ”

Lightning cuts her off with a scoff. “Do you remember the last time you asked me to - ”

“ _ Carry me. _ ”

Last time, she was carried as far as she desired - but after about the third second of being tossed over Lightning’s shoulders in the fireman’s carry, she decided it really wasn’t as much fun as she hoped. Worse, Lightning wasn’t bothered one bit. 

Scratching her scalp, Lightning says, “You’re not making this easy.”

Fang lets out an insulted huff. “You know what else isn’t easy? Breaking up flocks of wyvern who’ve decided windmills are the perfect places to build nests.  _ Especially _ when those windmills are bloody expensive and power cities and can’t just be torn down.”

Impossibly, Fang  _ feels _ Lightning roll her eyes. 

“Thank you,” she says at last. “Now come on. Let’s get you in the shower.”

Fang doesn’t respond for a moment, weighing the promise of a shower against the effort of getting to her feet. She’s halfway through calculating the amount of energy expended skipping the shower and going straight to bed when Lightning takes her by the wrist and gives her a gentle tug. 

She doesn’t resist so much as she wants to, letting Lightning coax her off the couch one limb at a time. When’s she’s halfway to standing, she pulls her towards her, burying her face in the warm bunch of fabric across her stomach. Fang’s senses cloud with Lightning’s scent: gun oil and the faint traces of her body wash. 

Fingers find her hair again, and quietly, Fang says, “Missed you…”

“Missed you too,” she says without missing a beat. 

With that final bit of encouragement, Fang breathes deep and rises to her feet, her thighs trembling with the effort of standing. 

Lightning’s hand finds Fang’s and intertwines, the leather across her palm oddly comforting. Fang leans on her heavily, and together, the two of them start towards the bathroom. 

Steam greets them at the door, and some small part of Fang is more thankful than ever for Lightning’s foresight. Waiting for the water to warm would have been inhumane; instead, as soon as the door clicks closed behind them, Fang begins to fumble with the buckle of her belt. Lightning stays by her side to steady her as the belt falls away and her sari begins to sag. 

“Any chance you’re coming with me?” Fang asks, sliding the silk off her shoulder and letting it puddle at her feet. 

“I had planned on it,” Lightning says, reaching for the clasps of Fang’s necklaces. 

Fang gracelessly tugs off her arm bands and drops them to the ground as well. “Good, cause I don’t think I’d be standing for very long otherwise.”

Her necklaces come away with Lightning’s help, and then all Fang has to do is tug her bra up over her head and drop her underwear to the ground. When it’s all done, Lightning bends to pick up the pile of clothes and moves them over to the sink. Then she begins to pull at her own clothes, taking them off and folding them with care. 

Fang lingers to admire the way she pulls her jacket off, the defined lines of her arms and the taut muscle of her core as she slips her shirt over her head. Three days without has given her a renewed appreciation, one that sinks into her aching flesh and battles the chill in the air. Lightning pulls off her bra and glances up to catch Fang staring, smirking and nodding her head towards the shower in a clear sign to get moving. 

Shivering, she takes another good hard look and then she steps into the shower,  closing the door behind her and sighing with relief at the hot spray. 

She goes limp all at once and has to steady herself with a hand against the tile, eyes closing. Her hair droops and falls flat around her face, the dirt stuck to her skin running down the expanse of her stomach, all the way down her legs to disappear into the drain at her feet. 

The glass door opens just enough for Lightning to slip in with a cool breath of air, and Fang shivers and scoots  farther beneath the spray, giving her a bit  more room in the cramped space. 

“The wyverns were really that bad?” Lightning asks, joining her beneath the water, one hand finding the back of Fang’s neck in a soft caress. 

“There were like, fifteen of them. And they all had nests.” Fang sinks into Lightning’s touch, shuffling closer and setting her chin on her shoulder,  the feel of her heated flesh going straight to her knees . “Do you even know how vicious nesting wyverns are? Here’s a hint: they shoot  _ lightning _ . Sometimes all at once.”

Fang feels  lips pressing into her hair. “Dealing with lightning? I thought you’d be an expert at that by now.”

A groan. Looping her arms around Lightning’s hips, Fang says, “Haha. You’re hilarious, Light.  _ Really _ .”

Washcloth in hand, Lightning pulls Fang closer and rubs little circles into the small of her back in an attempt to scrub the sweat and dust from her flesh. “You make that joke all the time.”

“And now I get to experience the disappointment of hearing it. Remind me to get new material after I’ve slept for a few days.”

The cloth rises higher on Fang’s back, reaching to between her shoulder blades, and blessedly, the hand at her neck never stops the gentle scrape of nails over her spine. Fang sinks a little more into Lightning,  trying to keep her knees from buckling . 

“A few days? That would be such a waste,” Lightning says. 

“Says  _ you _ ,” Fang grunts.

“Says me,” she agrees, running the washcloth over Fang’s shoulders. “I’ve got the next  four days off.”

It takes a moment for the words to penetrate the hazy cloud of Fang’s thoughts. Tilting her head to the side, she cracks an eye and glimpses Lightning’s expression, smiling contently. “You?  Four days off?”

Lightning hums. “You weren’t the only one working hard these last three days. I managed to get ahead on things enough to take some time off.”

As Fang considers this, Lightning releases her, leaning back just a bit to begin to scrub at Fang’s front.  Reluctant to let her get far, Fang keeps her hands on Lightning’s waist, thumbs skimming the soft flesh just above the jut of her hipbones. Jade eyes blaze a trail from her navel to the icy brand between her breasts, considering harder.

If Lightning notices, she gives no indication, working the cloth over Fang’s collarbones and down towards the swell of her bust, and Fang says,  “Maybe not the whole two days… I could probably get up tomorrow.” 

Lightning doesn’t pause, but her eyes flicker up from Fang’s chest, the cloth running over a nipple. “Oh?”

“ Mm , yeah.”  Fang leans closer, and Lightning’s hand slides down her front, her stomach jumping at the feel. “Later though. Nothing before noon.” 

“I think I could do noon.  Provided we get to bed at a reasonable time. ”  Reaching the tops of her thighs, Lightning’s voice adopts a lower timbre, no less clinical in her touch than before. But Fang knows an offer when she hears one, and for all that her bones ache, her stomach is turning molten at the thought of something more to mark their reunion.

Fang wraps her arms around firm shoulder and shifts her hips, edging them up just a bit so Lightning’s hand slips towards her inner thighs. “Not sure I’ve got a late night in me.”

Freezing, Lightning drops the cloth and shoots her a look that is all concern. “There’s always another time.”

It takes all Fang’s restraint not to chuckle, her chest grower warmer, entirely endeared. She buries her face in the crook of her neck and tastes her pulse with a kiss. “And waste the occasion? I might be dead on my feet, but the point would be to bring me to my knees, eh?”

A flutter of her heartbeat. Lightning’s hand rises along her thigh to press against her, and Fang lets out a content sigh. “I figured you’d be more interested in breakfast in bed tomorrow.”

She snorts, lifting her head to meet Lightning’s eyes. “With me or you as the main course?”

The hand between her legs  parts her with ease, stroking the whole of her before settling on her clit with a slow, practiced caress, stoking a purr in Fang’s throat.  It’s there and gone, but leaves her no less wanting, clever hands taking her by the hips and turning her away from the water. She doesn’t resist at all when her back hits the wall,  shivering at the cool tile and tender touch both . 

Lightning’s gaze is electric,  palms skimming up the expanse of her stomach , and the irony of that isn’t lost on Fang as she fixes her with that look that always goes straight to her gut. “I figured we could take turns.”

Fang squeezes her shoulders tighter and gives her her best grin,  voice climbing higher as Lightning’s warm hands find her breasts . “Oh darlin’. How’d I ever get so lucky?” 

Lightning doesn’t answer, just presses their lips together in a kiss that’s all subdued. Exhaling softly at the feel of thumbs circling her nipples, Fang pulls Lightning closer, opening her mouth to her as an allowance. Tongues tease at the tops of teeth, and the taste of Lightning floods Fang’s senses, her hips rolling forward for some kind of pressure.

Humming against her, Lightning breaks the kiss with a final swipe of her tongue over Fang’s lip. It’s a loss countered by the way she drops to press biting kisses to dark shoulders, her hands finding a way to make Fang squirm - but it’s still not enough.

Fang, running her nails through wet hair and gripping tight, lets out a little breath that sounds like, “Ain’t got to worry about breaking me, love.”

Against the column of her throat, Lightning answers, “For someone your age, I can take the time to be careful.”

Barking out a laugh, Fang rocks her hips forward again, insistant. “Oh, you’re a riot tonight, you know that? But at this rate I might fall asleep before you get your turn.”

There’s no missing the way those lips curve into a smile just beneath Fang’s ear, giving a little nip to show her agreement. “Mmm, yeah. You mentioned something about you being on your knees.”

“If you can - ” Lightning’s fingers venture lower,  dancing down Fang’s stomach and teasing over the slick desire collecting between her legs. Fang catches her lip between her teeth, waiting for the stretch of those fingers. “ -  _ get me there _ .”

“Like  _ this _ ?” Two delve into her, crooking just so, and Fang straightens, her toes curling. 

The first movement is exploratory, testing, but with how wet Fang is, there’s no need. Lightning  eases in and out of he r, her thumb  returning to her clit, and Fang tips her head back  and smiles . 

“ _ Yeah _ ,” she murmurs, shivering when Lightning does it again. “Yeah, just like that.”

Her thighs ache with the effort of keeping herself up, but she still spreads them wider even so, seeking friction and pressure and just a little more urgency from Lightning.  She rucks down into that hand, and Lightning takes the hint, picking up the pace so Fang’s got to tangle her fingers in pink hair just to ground herself.

With the steam from the shower, Fang’s breath grows tight, and Lightning doesn’t let up even when her voice starts to fray, moans slipping from her lips unabashedly. 

“Fuck,” she hisses, her hips jerking, yanking on Lightning’s hair and claiming her mouth in a kiss. 

Teetering on the edge of release, there’s no chance of finesse, but the taste of Lightning sinks low in her belly, whimpering as that hand keeps driving her on, keeps pushing her closer and closer until she can’t even feel the aches in her bones for all the want filling her up. She’s close, she’s so close, and Lightning knows it, humming against her lips and giving her a purposeful thrust that makes her clench with need. 

Lights dance behind Fang’s eyes, and she comes with a sudden buckling, only held upright by the weight of Lightning’s body against her, pinning her in place. A yelp flows from her mouth into Lightning’s, swallowed greedily as those fingers continue to play her like an instrument, threatening to truly send her to her knees. 

Yet for all the danger of impending collapse, Fang’s mind is a blank of pleasure, sparking higher and higher until her lungs ache with breathes not taken. 

Pain edges closer, balanced so precariously with the intensity of her climax, but the moment she thinks the line might be crossed, Lightning stills and Fang is left with nothing but tingles from the tips of her toes to the crown of her head. Lips press against hers gently, expecting nothing in return, and it’s all Fang can do to inhale, dazed and quivering still. 

“Etro,” Fang murmurs, the slight shift of Lightning within her coaxing her voice from her at last. “Missed you too.”

Lightning pulls her hand away entirely, and Fang does her best to straighten, pretending like she wasn’t a hair’s breadth from dropping to her knees in the throes of her release. A palm runs across Fang’s cheek, and she can’t help but turn into it, her mind fogging in a pleasant daze. 

“So you said.” Hunger gives  Lightning’s voice a strangled sound, robbing it of all its richer notes. 

Opening her eyes, Fang’s gut twists all over again at the flush adorning Lightning’s cheeks, stretching down her neck towards her shoulders and breasts. Glassy-eyed with desire, she licks her lips, leaning in to press their mouths together in something distinctly affectionate. 

Anyone else might have pressed their hips together instead, eager to find her own pleasure, but Lightning waits, tender even when the warmth of the water withers in comparison to the heat of her flesh.

“I’m good,” Fang murmurs against her mouth, scratching the base of her skull absently. She pushes off the wall at last, regaining the couple inches she holds over Lightning. 

As Fang yielded to Lightning’s guidance, Lightning now does the same, letting Fang push her back against the adjacent wall, her brow quirking. Her thumbs dig into Fang’s hips. “Just good?”

Bowing to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth, Fang lets her hands splay across those toned shoulders, dragging down to cup her breasts. Lightning hums and tilts her head towards Fang, stealing a kiss which promises more, and it’s only when Fang captures her bottom lips between her teeth that she manages to pull away. 

“Feeling good enough to keep my word,” Fang says. 

A deliberate arch of her back speaks Lightning’s approval for her.

As much as her orgasm only came after the patience of a slow beginning, Fang isn’t heartless enough to demand the same of Lightning, her mouth finding the crook of her neck and peppering kisses down towards her chest. She feels Lightning sigh into it, feels her reach for tangled dark locks by instinct. 

The eagerness with which Fang kneels is matched by the eagerness in Lightning’s next exhale, fingers twisting in her hair and tugging her down even as Fang nips at her frozen brand. Her stomach twitches and caves when she trails kisses down towards her navel piercing, and finally drops completely before Lightning, close enough to her to smell the desire even through the steam of their forgotten shower,  still warm on her back . 

Hands pin those hips in place as Lightning widens her stance, trying to encourage Fang forward with a none too gentle tug. 

“I hear ya, darlin’.” Fang exhales a chuckle, lifting one muscled thigh over her shoulder and turning her face into the soft flesh there. Using her teeth and tongue both, she lays a kiss upon her skin that’s sure to darken, a reminder to admire when she finds herself here again tomorrow.

For all that Lightning directs, she’s suspiciously quiet as Fang edges closer toward where she needs her most, her breaths coming taut and shallow. 

“Here we are,” she murmurs, her lips finding Lightning’s clit in a chaste kiss. 

No matter how brief, Lightning still shudders, full body, and chases the pressure of Fang’s mouth with her hips - and just who is Fang to deny a command like that? 

Her tongue flicks out, once, twice, three times, and it’s only when Lightning gives a needy exhale that Fang settles into a rhythm, her hand trailing up those impossibly long legs. She doesn’t need to feel to know Lightning’s soaked, but she still hesitates before entering her, circling her clit twice with her tongue just to feel the thigh on her shoulder tremble. 

“Fang - ” Lightning bites, and when Fang chances a look up at her, her chest is heaving like she can’t run six miles without breaking a sweat, her head canted away, lip between her teeth. 

_ Don’t hold back on my account _ , she wants to say, but tearing her mouth away from Lightning now would be criminal, so she endeavors to draw out all her delicious sounds by forcing her closer to the edge, holding her there until she breaks. 

Maybe it’s having just watched Fang come undone on her fingers after three days of not seeing her at all, or maybe Fang’s really just  _ that _ accomplished, but she’s nearly surprised at how soon Lightning begins to rock down into her, demanding more without saying a word. Fang doesn’t toy with her, adding a third finger and thrusting up into her until she can feel Lightning’s desire coating her knuckles. 

Clenching around her, Lightning lets the first true moan slip past her lips, and Fang redoubles her efforts, curling her fingers the way she knows will shred that steely composure. 

“ _ Ah _ ,” Lightning breathes, her voice fraying. “Yes, like that - ”

Fang obeys, dutiful as one of her soldiers and twice as devoted, and her reward is the sweetest sound of ecstasy from Lightning’s lips, the abrupt tightening of thighs around her head. Desperate claws hold Fang’s face in place as Lightning’s wracked with shivers, rucking into her to steal whatever friction she can, fighting to sustain her release. 

She lets out a little gasp and then stills completely, ragged breath coming short and shallow, and Fang can’t help but lay lingering kisses on her clit, on the insides of her thighs. 

“That was - ” she begins. 

“Incredible?” Fang finishes for her, too pleased with herself, with the hazy look of bliss on Lightning’s face. 

Lightning’s lips quirk into a smile before she can stop herself, so even when she shoots Fang a look that’s all reprimanding, Fang just grins back up at her, nonplussed. 

It takes a moment for her to disentangle herself from Fang, finding her balance on her own two feet once more, and by the time she does, Fang is already lavishing attention on the jut of a hipbone. The fingers in her hair don’t pull this time, but Fang still catches their urging and glances up, sinking into Lightning’s gaze. 

“Think you’re ready to stand?” Her lips curve around the words like she doesn’t quite mean them. 

“Mm, you want me to?”

“Not particularly,” Lightning admits, one corner of her mouth twitching with the confession. “But you said you weren’t feeling up to a late night.”

Fang considers this, considers the dull throb between her legs against the ones sulking between her joints. Her knees are going be sore in the morning, but so’s the rest of her, so it’s almost too tempting to simply remain where she is, returning her fingers to where she knows Lightning is warm and wet and wanting. 

But before she can decide, Lightning hums. “Don’t worry about it. We have time, remember?”

“Four days,” Fang repeats. 

“Yeah. Why don’t we get you into bed for now?”

Affection floods her against, as potent as any desire, and Fang can’t find it within herself to protest when Lightning offers her a hand and helps her to her feet. 

Impressively enough, the water hasn’t cooled at all, still running hot  down Fang’s back when she rises, and it’s a good thing too with the way Lightning shivers, too long outside the spray. Drawing her closer is second nature to Fang, and pressed together, Fang loops her arms around Lightning’s shoulders once more, burying her face in the crook of her neck. 

“Still need to wash your hair,” Lightning whispers, pressing a kiss to Fang’s hair.

“Yeah, okay,” Fang agrees, not moving. 

Lightning must know she’s got no intention of getting off her because instead of trying to prod her into action, she just reaches for the bottle of shampoo beneath the showerhead, squirting some into her hands and beginning to work it into dark curls. Fang sighs and tilts her head to give her better access, and Lightning just snorts. 

When she’s finished, Lightning turns them so Fang’s head is beneath the water, her hands rubbing circles into the small of Fang’s back. 

After rinsing, it’s time to repeat the process with conditioner, Fang swaying with her as she reaches and twists them this way and that. Now that she’s not otherwise occupied, the exhaustion from before returns slowly, seeping into her flesh like the heat of the water, and by the time Lightning’s working on her own hair, Fang’s clinging is more born more of necessity than comfort. 

She yawns, and Lightning touches the back of her neck. 

“Almost done,” she says. 

Fang lets out a sound which might be a purr in agreement, and Lightning guides the both of them back towards the water to rinse one more time. 

Finally, the knob twists and the water cuts off, and the two of them are left standing there, Fang no more interested in moving than before. She knows the next stop is bed, but some part of her wonders if she could just sleep like this. 

“Come on,” Lightning says, pushing open the door and letting a gust of cold air in. 

Fang shivers and manages to shuffle along with her, and without complaint, Lightning wraps a towel around the both of them, scrubbing at Fang’s hair and running it over her back. It takes longer than it should because Fang more resembles a lump than a person, l’cie or otherwise, but eventually Lightning manages to coax Fang around  to hang on her back so they can at least walk in the same direction, a towel still encircling them both. 

Leading her out into the hallway, Lightning reaches back to scratch at Fang’s head, and Fang nuzzles into her neck, pressing closer. 

In the bedroom, it takes more than a little negotiation to get Fang to let go, but when she does, Lightning finishes drying her off and presents her with a warm pair of pajamas. Then there’s nothing to stop her collapsing into bed, digging her way under the heavy duvet and waiting to feel Lightning tuck in next to her. 

When she does, a strong arm wraps around Fang’s middle, and Fang murmurs her approval as she’s pulled flush against Lightning, their breath mingling from the proximity. 

“Good to have you back,” Lightning says. 

Fang presses a sleepy kiss to her mouth and responds, “It’s good to be home.”


End file.
